


Sleeping Dogs

by kuro



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro/pseuds/kuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Dorian had arrived at the chess table a while ago, slightly late to their appointment as usual. For once, however, no Commander eager to start the game had been waiting for him.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://xhermionedanger.tumblr.com/post/123605053269/the-lady-magician-tiggyl-watching-my-so-fall).

Dorian had arrived at the chess table a while ago, slightly late to their appointment as usual. For once, however, no Commander eager to start the game had been waiting for him. Dorian knew he shouldn’t feel disappointment at the sight of the empty seat usually reserved for Cullen; Cullen was a busy man, after all, and his games with Dorian were nothing more than a diversion from his duties as the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. All too often, they got interrupted by some important missive that couldn’t wait until the end of their game.

If for Dorian, the regularly scheduled games were a rare chance to actually interact with a man he found both strange and fascinating, that was neither here nor there. It was simply his emotions getting in the way, just as usual. He’d never been particularly good at resisting his own curiosity - and curious he was about Cullen, indeed.

Dorian had known that this was only a temporary arrangement. That the time would come when Cullen found that he really didn’t have any time to spare for one evil Tevinter magister. That he would eventually snap out of whatever crazy mood that had made playing chess against a Vint seem like a good idea in the first place. Dorian just wished Cullen could have told him so in person. Or told him at all. Just leaving him here, waiting and wondering, seemed unusually cruel for Cullen. He’d always seemed blunt rather than cruel, someone that always voiced his displeasure clearly, but not viciously so. But then, it wouldn’t be the first time Dorian was proven wrong about the true nature of people. Some of them simply hid better than others.

After waiting at the chess table a little longer, Dorian grew weary both of waiting and of the many strange looks that were sent his way. By this evening, it seemed, the entire hold would know that the he’d been stood up by the Commander.

Oh well. The waiting was already bad enough; he might as well do something about it.

With a small sigh, Dorian stood and left the chess table behind, choosing the way over the battlements to head towards Cullen’s office. Flight and avoidance were probably easier, and definitely less embarrassing, but Dorian had kind of fulfilled his quota of running away. He  felt so weary of all the lies, deceptions and mind games, especially from the man he had least expected it from. He wanted answers, even if they hurt.

He would hurt, anyway.

Dorian didn’t bother with knocking, but barged into Cullen’s office without even slowing down. If he hesitated now, he would call the whole thing off, he knew that. He already had a snippy comment on his lips when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. Cullen was indeed in his office. But he was also fast asleep, his head cushioned on one of the many reports that were still waiting to be read by him.

Dorian was pretty sure Cullen was currently drooling on that report.

Frozen in place a few steps away from the desk, Dorian started to feel foolish. He’d been so preoccupied with himself that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that the Commander of the Inquisition was a very busy man, and likely also a very exhausted one. Indeed, the times when Cullen actually looked like he’d gotten a good night’s sleep were exceedingly rare. The dark shadows below his eyes were a constant companion.

Now that he thought about it, it was probably surprising that Cullen _didn’t_ ditch his duties more often for the occasional nap. As far as Dorian could see, he was always running around; training, meetings with the Inquisitor, the Advisors, his subordinates, taking care of correspondence and planning. In his free time, he indulged Dorian in a game of chess or rarely, very rarely, visited the tavern.

Did Cullen actually _have_ free time? When Dorian wasn’t taking it all up? Even Cassandra, another terrible workaholic, took breaks to read her awful books. (Dorian had, well, _discussed_ them with Cassandra. She’d blushed the entire time, but she’d also viciously defended them. Something that Dorian could appreciate. He’d made a point to keep her steadily supplied ever since. Even if they _were_ terrible books.) Unless they were playing chess, however, he’d never seen Cullen do anything that could be interpreted as “having fun,” even with a very generous squint. Maybe bashing people with shields was his version of fun?

In any case, now Dorian was here and it looked like Cullen hadn’t actually ditched him, but simply fallen asleep and not woken up in time. He should probably leave and let Cullen sleep, because honestly, Cullen still looked exhausted even in his sleep.

Cullen would probably come to apologise once he finally woke up, and Dorian would pout a little just to make his point, and then they would make an arrangement for the next game. Things would return to normal, or as normal as they ever got on Skyhold. Cullen would return to overworking himself. Dorian would return to waiting for the moment Cullen finally tired of his presence.

Instead of leaving quietly, Dorian stepped forward, leaning over Cullen’s bulk (most of which was that ridiculous mop of fur he insisted on), and studied Cullen’s face. Cullen looked really tired and, well, harrowed. Did Dorian look the same if he wasn’t careful? Did he also have that pained expression of someone who had been betrayed by everything he’d ever believed in on his face, sometimes? That look of insecurity that sometimes crossed Cullen’s face when he struggled with his old beliefs and this new situation he found himself in?

Dorian might not understand why Cullen had wanted to become a Templar, but he did understand that Cullen had genuinely wanted to do the right thing. Cullen barely ever spoke about it, but Dorian had gathered enough to know that Cullen had decided to become a Templar very early, driven mostly by admiration, and that he had worked tirelessly to achieve his goal. All noble intentions aside, it hadn’t ended well.

Now, no matter how much he still held himself like a Templar, he strictly reminded everyone that he wasn’t one any longer. That he had no connection to the order whatsoever.

It wasn’t like Dorian didn’t understand. No, he definitely understood the feeling of turning your back on everything you’ve ever worked for in your life, and how difficult it was. It had taken himself a botched ritual of blood magic to finally break with his father. For so long, he’d held on to the stubborn hope that his father would eventually come around, come to appreciate him how he was, and not like Halward wanted him to be. That everything would turn out all right in the end.

His hopes had been all too naive, and he had paid for it with everything he’d ever thought he’d possessed. And it wasn’t the loss of status that hurt most, oh no.

He wondered how Cullen had felt when he turned his back on the Templars. If it also hurt as much, all the ugly truths and the feelings of betrayal and disappointment, the bitterness to see what he’d once believed in come to such an end. How much it had taken to finally make him stop believing that things would eventually turn out right.  

The tormented look on Cullen’s face both made him want to ask a thousand questions, and at the same time, it kept his tongue tied. A strange contradiction, like so many things about the man.  

Still lost in his thoughts, Dorian didn’t realise for one moment that Cullen was slowly stirring and showing signs of waking up. He failed to move away in time, so he was still right there, in front of Cullen’s face, when Cullen woke up.

Cullen blinked sleepily at Dorian, and then, utterly unexpected, smiled at him. Not the confident smirk he had plastered all over his face when he bested Dorian in a game of chess, but an unguarded, warm smile that made his eyes shine.

“Dorian,” he said, and his voice was equally as warm and welcoming as his smile.

Dorian could only stare in astonishment.

Dorian’s silence seemed to wake Cullen from his sleep-addled state, his expression suddenly changing from friendly to shocked. He jerked up in his seat, taking in his surroundings with wide eyes.

“Maker,” he breathed, “did I fall asleep?”

Dorian schooled his face into his usual jovial smile. “I take it this break was not quite intended?” he asked.

“…how long was I out?” Cullen asked, sighing and rubbing his eyes in frustration.

“Long enough to have rumours spreading that you’ve stood me up, my dear Commander,” Dorian joked. “And here I thought we had something.”

“I’m sorry, Dorian,” Cullen sighed, ignoring the gentle flirting as usual. “I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

“Commander, our games are not some kind of duty that you have to turn up to,” Dorian reminded him. As much as the egoistic part of himself wanted to insist that Cullen should make time for him, Dorian knew better than that. Much better. “If you are tired, you should rest. To be quite honest, you look like you sorely need it.”

Cullen’s face turned into a frown. “This is the only time of the day I get to do what I actually want to,” he growled. “Do you think I want to waste it by _sleeping_?”

He said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Careful, Commander. I think you just admitted to enjoying playing chess against a Vint,” Dorian teased, although the words had made something constrict in his chest. Foolish, foolish. He should really know better than that.

Cullen looked up for a moment, a baffled expression on his face before his frown returned with a vengeance. “That I did, yes,” he said eventually. “And I’d like to think of it as playing chess with a friend, rather than anything else.”

For one moment, Dorian was pretty sure he’d taken the wrong door and ended up somewhere in the Fade by accident. Desire demons and all that.  

“I’d… like that, yes,” Dorian admitted, the stutter in his voice painfully obvious to himself.

Whenever he thought he’d finally figured Cullen out, he did something that went against all of his expectations. Cullen couldn’t possibly be serious, could he? He was a Fereldan, after all, and a former Templar at that. And yet… foolish, Dorian was so foolish, and greedy, and so eager to believe.

Cullen smiled slightly and stood, stretching himself a little to get rid of the stiffness in his joints. (How Cullen could possibly sleep in that armor was beyond Dorian.) “Shall we go, then?” he asked. “I believe we still have a game waiting.”

“I believe you still have a lot of work waiting, too,” Dorian couldn’t help but point out.

Cullen looked down on his desk, at the report on top of the pile that _definitely_ looked a little smudged and drool-stained.

“No,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. “I think I’m good for today.”

Cullen turned away from the desk and, with the light pressure of his hand at Dorian’s back, guided him out of his office.

Oh but yes, Dorian was a fool.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://kurowrites.tumblr.com). :3


End file.
